


Hero of Kvatch, Prince of Madness

by GlameowGal360



Series: The Mad Adventures of the New Sheogorath [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlameowGal360/pseuds/GlameowGal360
Summary: What if Jyggalag had dumped the title of Madgod onto a Khajiit who wanted none of that shit? This series is my somewhat serious take on what the process of truly becoming Sheogorath could have looked like.
Series: The Mad Adventures of the New Sheogorath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762960
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Hero of Kvatch, Prince of Madness

Part 1: Great. Just Great. 

Unfortunately, Jyggalag had left before Ra’lana could ask him just what he meant when he told her she was the new Sheogorath. More accurately, he’d left before she’d had the chance to cuss him out for dumping the title onto her. She may have ended the Greymarch to assist a Daedric Prince, but she definitely hadn’t intended to become one. After this mess was over, Ra’lana had planned to completely avoid any and all Daedra for at least a week (considering her impressive collection of artifacts, it would be impossible to stay away forever). 

“How could a mortal even-” Her train of thought was interrupted by an over exaggerated gasp. One of the many, crazed denizens of the Shivering Isles was staring at her with nothing short of adoration. That couldn’t be a sign of anything good.

“Hello?” 

“It’s such an honor to be in your presence, Lord Sheogorath!” 

_ Nope _ .

_ Nope nope nope. _ Ra’lana promptly made her way to the nearest exit. She wasn’t going to be the one responsible for keeping this mad land together. Her feelings of unease were worse now than when she’d fought Jyggalag. On her way out, Golden Saints and Dark Seducers fucking saluted her. 

Again,  _ nope. _

The Daedra would just have to find someone else to assume the throne of madness because it sure as shit wouldn’t be her. Not now. Not today. Not ever. 

_ <Do you mind not thinking so loud? I’m trying to do the fish stick—it’s a delicate process.> _

That voice—his voice,  _ their voice _ —stopped her dead in her tracks. The sound hadn’t come from the area around her: it resonated within her head. 

__

As soon as the Hero of Kvatch sighted Mehrunes Dagon, all Oblivion broke loose. In the blink of an eye, the Khajiit drew her daggers and charged, a furious screech on her lips. Dagon responded in kind, pulling out a massive battle axe and rushing to meet her advance. 

Boethiah, despite usually loving bloodsport, leapt forward and grabbed the heroine, putting a sword to her throat to silence her. Molag Bal and Malacath went about stopping the Prince of Destruction while Azura and Nocturnal stood to restore some semblance of order. 

Sanguine laughed. “Who could have guessed this would end badly? It’s not like he tried to take over Mundus and she fought to stop him or anything.” 

“Not now.” Nocturnal snapped. She had no desire to be here, but a mortal making the transition to Daedric Prince warranted some kind of gathering. Even if it would be a pain to get through. 

“You two need to tolerate each other long enough for us to discuss this.” How Azura was managing to be genuinely calm in her demeanor was anyone’s guess. 

Surprisingly, Ra’lana dropped one dagger and took hold of the edge of Boethiah’s sword, trying to push it away from her neck. Honestly, it was impressive that she was capable of straining against such a powerful captor’s grip. “I’ll stab my blade right through your heart.” She hissed. 

“I’d like to see you try, mortal.” 

_ <Not exactly a mortal anymore, are we? Well I guess you kind of still are. For the moment, anyhow. Weird when ya think about it.> _

The essence of the voice stirred inside her soul, and she could feel it starting to meld with her. Great. Well, at this point her options seemed to be either going insane or turning into the lord of the insane. Wonderful. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

“Your eyes.” Hermaeus Mora manifested in front of her, a mass of writhing tentacles and eyeballs. He was so uniquely grotesque that his appearance made her stop fighting Boethiah’s grasp. 

Ra’lana suddenly found herself being stared at very intensely by everyone in the room. Heck, even Dagon’s aggression had been replaced by vague curiosity. She was far from self-conscious, but the gazes of this many Daedra would have made anyone uncomfortable. 

“What about my eyes?” Ra’lana tilted her remaining dagger up to catch a glimpse of her reflection. They looked the same as always. 

“It’s as though we’re looking right at him, isn’t it?” Mephala was peering from around Mora’s form to ensure she got a good look at her. She might have actually been more terrifying than the talking ball of tentacles. 

“The change may not yet be fully visible to you, but you are definitely Sheogorath.” Hermaeus Mora spoke with a level of finality that was not at all comforting. 

Mehrunes scoffed. “So now anyone who happens to be in the right place at the right time can become a Prince?” 

“Apparently.” Sanguine sounded as nonchalant as ever, but some particularly skilled ears could pick out the hint of melancholy in his tone. 

It was fitting: the Madgod they had all known was no more, and Sanguine had almost always gotten along with him. He would be missed. 

She felt her chest tighten. There really was no getting out of this, was there? “I’m seriously… Azura preserve me.” Unlike others of her race she wasn’t exactly devout, but calling out to someone felt necessary, and the Divines likely wanted nothing to do with her. Ra’lana would have called upon Nocturnal—patron of the Thieves Guild—but didn’t want to risk annoying her anymore than she already was. 

Azura’s lips turned upward in a small smile. “I don’t think there’s much I can do for you at this point.” 

“Like all mortals, she’s biased.” Dagon muttered.

Nocturnal turned her glare on him. “You of all Daedra have no right to complain about anyone’s biases. Or have you already forgotten about the Mythic Dawn: the reason you had the power to invade in the first place?” 

“Speaking of invading, we’re all still upset about the damage he did to our realms, right?” Vaermina asked her question with a grin that would have given most men or mer nightmares. 

Having all the other Princes scowl or smirk eerily at him made Mehrunes Dagon almost visibly nervous. He had good reason to be: if their combined power had been enough to curse Jyggalag for several eras who knew how they would decide to deal with him. 

The Khajiit relished the sight of it, and out of sheer spite decided to let her inner voice speak for her. 

_ “Cheer up, pal! Maybe I’ll play jump rope with your remains after they’re done with you.” _

__

Another hour of fruitless arguing went by before everyone came to the conclusion that they should wait and see how this would play out. 

It was her opinion that even if she did ascend to her new mantle, little about her would actually change. 

A few years later, her opinions (and personality) were very, very different; especially where cheese was concerned. 

__


End file.
